~Previously~

Harry scurried to the left staircase, ignoring the squeaking redheads attempts to speak with him.

In the dorms, he eventually located the room that had his trunk at the foot of one four-poster bed. Harry curled into the soft mattress, guiding the curtains closed with one hand and falling asleep.

~And Now~

Harry woke to Ocarina trilling a song that made him think of the sun shining down on a sleepy forest. He got ready quickly, and found an older student that he asked to show him to the route to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he followed the older student, he considered the strange things that had happened since he came to the Wizarding World. The letter addressed as 'Link' as well as the Gringotts quill writing it, and the Sorting Hat calling him the 'bearer of Courage'. Harry honestly didn't feel very courageous when he thought about it, but he supposed the magical hat knew what it was talking about, since it was a magical hat. Lost in thought as he was, Harry almost walked straight past the Great Hall. He turned sharply, almost skidding on the worn stone, and made his way to the Gryffindor table, sitting roughly and grabbing a piece of toast.

Harry began to butter his toast, almost stabbing through the bread since he was deep in thought again. He glanced up at the scantly populated hall. He realized he had gotten up particularly early, even without his aunt there to screech about her 'darling Duddums' needing his breakfast, which was usually enough food to feed someone for a whole day. No wonder Dudley was so large.

"Mister Potter," came from behind him, and he twisted away from his thoroughly mauled toast to see Professor McGonnagal standing there, holding a piece of paper towards him.

"Your schedule," she said, with a faint ghost of a smile at her lips. Harry nodded quietly and took the paper, looking it over. He found himself particularly excited for Potions, seeing it was with the Slytherins (he could talk with Draco again) and thinking it might be like cooking (one of his favourite chores, despite being forced into it and Dudleys insatiable appetite). Transfiguration, he saw, was with Professor McGonnagal. He wondered if he could learn to turn into a cat like her.

He returned to his mauled toast, it was honestly better than what the Dursleys had given him, and decided it needed some strawberry jam. He added the jam and ate the toast like it would be taken away, startling a couple of the professors at the head table.

One, a greasy-haired bat of a man, sneered, but underneath that, grimaced slightly. Professor Severus Snape was not one to let grudges go easily however, and thought to himself, 'just like the spawn of Potter to have the manners of a starved wolf'. Another Professor, this one in a turban and looking around like the students would suddenly become hungry for blood and decide his was best, thought to himself as well. 'Perfect, the Potter boy will want away from his current situation, I will be able to convince him to join me.'

Professor Dumbledore watched over Harry with a grandfatherly air, noting to himself how small Harry was and how little he seemed to eat. 'Arabella would tell me if there were problems,' he thought, secure in his thoughts that Petunia would look past her sister and see an innocent child instead. 'At least he has not grown up thinking that people are his playthings, to do with as he pleases.' And so Dumbledore nodded to himself before taking a lemon scone and a glass of pumpkin juice.

The Gryffindor table began to fill up, Hermione taking a seat next to him and one of the many redheads boxing him in from the other side. Hermione took an apple and a scone while the redhead stacked his plate with everything. Harry turned to the redhead and began to introduce himself.

"I'm sorry for not talking yesterday," he said, as this was the one who had tried to speak with him, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter." The redhead nodded and swallowed the bit of sausage he had been eating.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he said, before fully processing who he was talking to. "You're Harry Potter? Do you really have the scar?"

"What scar?" Harry asked, snatching a blueberry scone. Ron looked astonished.

"What scar!?" Ron yelped, his voice going up at least two octaves. "The most famous scar in the world and you say 'what scar'!" Harry nodded. Hermione, now fully awake from the shrill tones only a short distance away, turned to them.

"You're in a lot of the modern history books I read," she said, nodding. "And a whole series of novels in the bookstore was about Harry Potter. The scar in question is shaped like a lightning bolt, at least according to what I read." Harry's mouth formed an 'o' of comprehension and he brushed back the fringe of unruly bangs that hid his forehead. There, a dark colour that stood out from his surprisingly pale skin, was a slim lightning bolt shape. Ron gaped and Hermione made a noise like someone stepped on a snake. Harry made a face, though neither seemed to notice, and dropped his bangs, focusing instead on the blueberry scone like it held the answers to the universe on its golden brown surface.

His rescue came in the form of Professor McGonnagal, her sharp Scottish brogue interrupting the silent staring as she gave schedules to Ron and Hermione.

Soon, breakfast was over and a cluster of first years were on their way to their first class. Harry glanced at his schedule. First, Charms. Harry followed the schedule, glancing at number plates on doors and following gaggles of both older students and other first years until he arrived at the Charms room. He took a seat at an empty table, fairly close to the solid wall of blue and bronze the Ravenclaws* they shared Charms with made. Gryffindors continued to trickle in, the last being a slightly chubby blond boy who collapsed into his seat with a huff. As soon as all the students were there , the rather small Charms Professor, Flitwick, stood on a stack of books behind his lectern and began to call roll. As he got to the P's and called Harry's name he squeaked and nearly fell off his stack of books. The class began, a lecture on proper wand movements and pronunciation, followed by learning the movements and pronunciation to a levitation spell, Wingardium Leviosa. Harry left that period with his head hurting slightly from all the information, and some worry that he would pronounce something wrong and end up as a dog biscuit or a toilet brush.

Transfiguration was just as exciting, if not more so. McGonnagal started out the class in her cat form, demonstrating her transformation, and then proceeded to turn her desk into a pig and back. She then fixed the class with her sharp gaze.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said sharply. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." She then proceeded to hand out matches, with the instructions to turn them into needles. She ran through the process, the wand movements and the spell itself, demonstrating as she went. When the demonstration was finished, Professor McGonnagal displayed to the class a perfectly formed tapestry needle, that looked like it had been a tapestry needle the whole time. She let the class of first years start trying. Harry poked at his match, which had turned silver and pointy, when McGonnagal shouted out "10 points to Gryffindor!" holding up a slim needle in front of Hermione's desk, which was void of matches. Harry continued to poke at his match, which slowly changed to look more like a needle, until the end of class, when they were assigned an essay on the properties of the transfiguration.

Harry glanced at his schedule again. Potions was next. Excellent, he could see his first friend and hopefully find a favourite class early on! Harry carefully followed a throng of Slytherin first years to the dungeons, trailed by surprisingly hesitant Gryffindors. The famed Gryffindor courage could not stand up to rumours of Snapes favouritism. The students all bustled to take seats, the Slytherins wherever they pleased and the Gryffindors as far from the front as possible. Harry sat among a handful of Slytherins, a dot of red and gold among green and silver.

Draco sat next to Harry, an almost approving look in his eye. He gave a glare, as if out of long practice and habit, but sat next to Harry and behaved quite pleasantly despite looking somewhat like he had sucked on a lemon.

The class soon started with Professor Snape sweeping in, cloak bellowing menacingly in the dim, flickering lighting of the dungeons. He began to speak, in a voice that captured the classroom, yet was just above a whisper.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art of potion making. However, for those of you who possess the pre-disposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses; I can tell you how to brew glory, bottle fame, and even put a stopper in death. Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel comfortable enough to not pay attention. Mister Potter!" He snapped at Harry, who had been dutifully taking notes, at the end of his speech. Harry flinched. Adults snapping, in his experience, led to painful humiliation.

"Potter," Snape said with a sneer. "What would I get if I added powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermiones hand shot up and Draco looked between Harry and Snape with sharp, calculating eyes.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered, as politely as possible (because being rude or aggressive only increased the punishment coming his way).

"Hmph. Fame clearly isn't everything." Snape spun, confronting another Gryffindor.

"Longbottom," he growled. "Where would you find a bezoar?"

The hapless Gryffindor flinched away from Snape. "I-I d-don't know, s-sir," the poor boy stuttered out. Snape turned to confront a final Gryffindor, though not Hermione, whose hand had continued to climb until she was all but standing on her seat.

"Weasley," he snapped. "What is the difference between Wolfsbane and Monkshood?"

"I don't know. I think Hermione does though, why don't you ask her?" Ron said, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. Snape sneered.

"That will be 10 points from Gryffindor for cheek. For your information asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, and Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same plant, also known as Aconite. Well, aren't you going to write this down?" Snape snapped.

He then whirled and flicked the days potion onto the blackboard. Once everyone had gotten to work, he stalked the aisles, sneering and looming. Harry dutifully ground up snake fangs and put them in his cauldron.

An explosion sounded from one side of the room, along with a miserable whimper. Snape spun towards the sound, and took in Neville Longbottom sitting on the ground, covered in boils. He snapped at the poor Gryffindor next to Neville.

"Finnigan! I suppose you didn't notice him adding the porcupine quills before he turned the heat off." Said Gryffindor flinched. "Take him to the Hospital Wing," Snape growled.

At the end of class, Harry left Draco, extracting a promise that they would meet up to study soon, and caught up to Ron. Ron looked at Harry like Harry was a dragon who had eaten Ron's firstborn.

"What're you doing with a slimy snake?" Ron accused. Harry looked at him confused.

"Slimy snake?" Harry said, tilting his head slightly, questioningly. Ron snarled a bit.

"Slytherins are all up to no good, they're all evil!" Ron said, passionately. Harry shook his head, looking hurt.

"Draco was my first friend," he began. "He was quite nice on the train, and even bought snacks for both of us." Ron looked scandalized and angry.

"Yeah, well, that doesn't change the fact that Slytherins are all gits," he said, with a sharp nod like that was all he'd hear on the matter. Harry sighed before making his way to the Great Hall for supper. He supposed he wouldn't change minds in a day.

.(authors note).

*Artistic license, so sue me.

Inspiration just slam dunked into my head for this one. The next story to update will likely be The Other Shrunken Meitantei since I've been rewatching DC. I hope you enjoyed! Review if you have something to say, and do whatever otherwise ^^